


Against Time

by RunawayDog



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayDog/pseuds/RunawayDog
Summary: Takes place after the pacifist ending.It's been barely two weeks since the androids won their freedom. The government is torn between those who would allow the state to modify their laws and those who wouldn't. Connor is trying to get used to his new life when duty calls. Android-committed crimes are becoming more and more frequent and even though seemingly there's no connection between them, there's something suspicious about each. Connor & Hank race against the clock to solve the mystery of these cases before the androids' newly earned reputation is ruined forever.





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I thought I'd never write fanfiction again. I felt like I lost inspiration, plus not many fandoms touch my heart as deeply as DBH did. I was probably way too ambitious with that summary but I'll try to deliver to the best of my abilities. Updates will happen every week or so. I'm a bit rusty, after all.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to Mothyave for being a ruthless but very devoted beta reader & a corrector for the first version of this chapter and to RK for highlighting things that never occurred to me as a non-native speaker. I couldn't have gathered the courage to publish this without your help.  
> ~Ever since this chapter landed here, I've added more than a thousand words to it. The plot didn't change, I just smoothed out inconsistencies and added some personality-building.

2038\. November 20th, Saturday

It was a chilly day, the sun provided only dim light and the sky was tinted light-gray with no clouds in sight. Signs that proved the early winter might be staying for longer than the weather report predicted. Connor had spent the majority of the morning alone in the church. He didn't mind returning back to the old, poorly lit, broken down building. Ever since he liberated those androids at CyberLife, he felt like he couldn’t settle down. Those androids who were at Jericho for the longest and knew about his past well, distanced themselves from him. Those who he freed himself seemed a bit lost. Some of them quickly formed groups and settled down somewhere but others had a hard time handling their freedom. They didn’t seek out any activities, choosing to follow Connor instead. They looked at him like he was some kind of superhero. As the people of Jericho quickly spread out in their newly gained land and started to discover fancier and more modern buildings, the church where they once gathered on the edge of a long, cold night, quickly became abandoned. It was an obvious choice for him. Here at least he was safe from all of those watchful pairs of eyes which either admired his every move or judged him for his past. Old church or not, it wasn’t like they sought him out anyways, only watching him from the distance. His best guess was that the old members spread some kind of gossip which made him end up sealed as even his silent admirers kept their distance, never going further than a few polite questions. But no matter how much Connor desired company, he still had his pride so instead of begging for attention, here he was, sitting in the first row of pews, the familiar feeling of loneliness nothing but a low hum in the back of his mind. He was cracking his knuckles as a part of a limbic check-up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Of course, if it wasn’t for his testing, he would have heard the steps just fine instead of being caught off guard, shuddering from the sudden touch. He quickly guided his attention back to his surroundings. As he turned around, he saw Martin - a member of the group currently in charge, seeing as Markus and the others left the city. They took off the previous evening, as they wanted to make it in time for the negotiations, hoping they can put some pressure on Congress regarding their newfound freedom. 

"I was looking for you. Here, a messenger brought this a few hours ago," he said unceremoniously, no greetings or any formalities. His voice was flat, the faint freckles around his nose almost sparkled in the dim, dusty light. He held out a neatly folded piece of paper towards Connor.

The messenger squad was established not long after the protests ended. It was their job to keep in contact with humans - they operated strictly after sunset and their identity was known only by a few, carefully selected android to help ensure their safety. Most of these written conversations happened between androids who were captured and taken to camps, and their previous families. 

So, why would Connor receive a message? He didn't have a reason to talk to anybody except for... He eyed the paper for a moment before taking it from Martin’s hand.  
"Thank you." He kept his gaze on the paper and didn't look the other in the eye.

He set off to find a cracked glass pane among the huge rosaces so he could hold the paper against direct sunlight. Recycled paper, cut from a bigger sheet, likely with something flat and stiff like a ruler, rather than scissors, three inch wide sides measured imperfectly - nothing suspicious so far. 

Meet me in the warehouse at the corner of Collins and Sky at midnight.

That was Hank's handwriting, no doubt about that, written with indigo-coloured ink using a ballpoint pen. He didn't see anyone else's fingerprints on either side and the handwriting wasn’t rushed either - according to his calculations there was only a thirty percent chance that the message was a trap. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to decide whether to go or not. Of course, he'd be happy to see Hank anytime, but he knew very well that he couldn’t just go and visit the lieutenant whenever he pleased. He hadn’t been outside of the camp since they had settled down here, so he barely had any information on the current state of either the other side of the city that wasn’t evacuated, or the human evacuation camps next to it. His only guidelines were the footages some passerby drones picked up and television reports or newspaper articles filled with speculations from people who had never set foot in Detroit. No androids were allowed outside their own part of Detroit, that was the deal until a common agreement was to be reached, and Hank knew that too. He wouldn’t ask him to sneak past if it wasn’t important. Connor blew out some air he didn’t know he’d kept in. He had to go.

"Is there a problem?" Martin followed his steps and was now standing on his left, his bright blue eyes filled with concern, glued to his LED circle which Connor knew was glowing yellow. 

He hated that the blond android saw right through him. Ever since he started to experience these emotions, he had a hard time hiding them. His voice was usually even but his facial expressions betrayed him all the time. 

“No, everything is fine. Just an old friend from the other side." Connor saw a small popup at the corner of his eyes, one of his old protocols warning him about dishonesty - he lied. Well, he had to. Markus would probably understand Connor, but he wasn’t here and the androids left in charge were acting overprotective and way too cautious in an attempt to desperately protect their current state. They wouldn't let him go. And that’s why he wasn’t going to ask for their permission. 

“Do you want to send an answer today?” Martin asked and Connor detected a faint trace of sincere concern in his voice. He looked up, right into those bright, sea-blue eyes which were gazing at him, still unblinking.

“No, I don’t really know how to answer just yet.” He blew out some unneeded air through his nose. He felt like the lie was convincing enough. 

For a fraction of a second Martin looked like he was about to complain, eyes a bit wider and brows furrowed, but eventually he changed his mind, opting for an awkward arm-scratch. He wanted to be sympathetic. Connor forced away a sour smile from his face. He knew how it was. Keep the distance.

"Okay. You know where to find me," Martin said eventually.

"Yes. I appreciate your concern." 

And with that, Martin left him alone with his thoughts, for which he was grateful. He had a lot of planning to do. Determine the best route possible to reach the border considering the weather, geography, and the lockdown itself. He had to carefully map his every move. All he knew was that he had to get through by gaining the least attention possible. Their situation was balanced for now but he knew that it was only a matter of time before someone or something would break the fragile state of peace, and he didn’t want to be the one responsible for that.

 

According to several news sources, it was one of the coldest nights of the year. He brought the thickest coat he could find - a light-olive one, bomber style, he preferred practicality over fashion - and still, he was freezing. And it wasn't even close to midnight when he left the settlement, who knew how cold the night would get by the time he made it to the warehouse. Finally, after forty-eight minutes of walking, Connor halted. He knew very well that Markus had good intentions when he asked them to turn on their heat sensors, so that people who saw them in the news would sympathize with them - seeing they are suffering just like humans are -, but they hadn’t seen any drones filming them in the last forty-eight hours, which, in Connor's consideration, was a pretty good reason for him to disobey Markus this once. He took off the coat, left it hanging from his arm neatly folded in half, and continued his journey in a simple gray button-up shirt. The night seemed to be way too perfect. There was no wind, no rain, but plenty of moonlight and sparkling fog sitting in the air. He knew he couldn't enjoy this tranquillity for long. If he kept up his even walking speed, in approximately twenty-five minutes he would reach the settlement's border, which was guarded by military personnel at every six miles. All equipped with weapons and communication devices. It'd been nine days since the revolution; trying to fool them with a fake alibi was out of the question. He had to either sneak past them or confront them. As soon as he had a visual on a pair of soldiers, he settled down in a nearby bush. They wore dark clothing as there was no use for camouflage out in the open. Huge vests with lots of pockets, long military boots, thick hats and gloves against the cold. Whoever armored them was paranoid. They both had rifles. Connor quoted a lengthy swear from Hank in his head. Even though he tried to find the position with the most greenery around, he couldn’t find any instances where the patrolling route itself wasn’t cleared out. There was no chance for him to get through peacefully, but that didn’t mean he was out of options. His first idea was to identify the walkie-talkies' frequency and jam their system. That was by far the easiest and fastest method of distraction, but that would alert every single person using the same channel, both the military personnel out in the open and everyone at their headquarters. If he tried physical violence with one of the guards, the other would alert the rest or shoot him, so that was out of the question too. He even considered killing them both with a swift surprise attack, but that was unethical and illegal and even the thought itself came with a surprising amount of guilt. He looked down to straighten the legs of his black trousers when his eyes settled on a sizeable pebble within an arm’s reach and an idea was born. Connor grabbed the pebble and weighed it. He looked around and in a semi-second calculated the perfect trajectory on which the piece of stone would hit the middle of a nearby asphalt road, then he threw it. As it hit the ground, one of the guards looked up. 

"What was that?" the man asked and his composure loosened immediately.

"What?" asked his partner looking around but not finding anything to focus his sight on. “Don’t be so paranoid, they told us the chances, remember?”

"Didn't ya hear?" the first guard asked, taking a few small steps towards the origin of the noise.

The other guard scoffed. "Probably just a wild animal but go ahead if it captured your interest so much."

 

Connor grinned to himself. His plan was working; one guard had indeed left his position. Now he just had to get him further away from his partner. What would grab a human's interest in the middle of the night without being seen as a threat? He suddenly realized that the answer was very simple. He raised his chin to straighten his throat and started to mimic the voice of Sumo, Hank's dog. It caused an instant reaction.

"You hear that?" asked the one who had stayed in place. "It was just a stray dog!" 

 

Connor made some whimpering noises too, for maximum effect. 

 

"Yeah, but-” answered his partner, “That noise... It's probably hurt. C'mere, doggy." 

The guard was walking towards him in a faster manner, leaving his designated post entirely empty. Connor closed his eyes and concentrated on the footsteps. When the perfect moment came, he jumped at the guard with one swift motion, one arm wrapping around the human’s neck. He applied just enough pressure to make him go unconscious from the lack of oxygen but not to kill him. It was taking too many seconds for him to faint, but at least the man stayed silent after Connor covered his mouth with his free hand. The guy wasn't a nose breather, Connor could measure his blood oxygen levels dropping in a clear pattern. Finally he lost consciousness and when the android let him go, he dropped to the ground with a flat thud. 

"Hey!" 

The other guard finally noticed what was happening behind his back. Connor bent down and picked up the machine gun that had fallen to his feet, not showing any sign of hesitation.

 

"Drop your weapon or I'll shoot you down faster than you can blink!" he yelled, his voice loud and even.

Three seconds. That’s all the time he needed to get the LSAT60 from the ground, turn off the safety and aim it at the man with perfect accuracy. He really hoped that showing off his abilities like that would convince the human to take him seriously. As everything else about humans, this action came with its own fair amount of uncertainty too. If Connor was able to sweat, his shirt would be sticking to his back by now.

 

"Okay. Just don’t hurt me," the guy answered and dropped his weapon with an exaggerated motion. Connor sent a more threatening glance at him and he kicked his weapon further away.

"Give me your radio! Now!" 

Connor's voice was filled with determination, but deep inside he could only hope this would work out for him. If the guard hesitated, his plan would fail. He took a deep breath - a habit he must have developed recently - and mentally listed all his possible actions. He couldn't shoot the man down since the noise would alert nearby guards if the wind could carry it far enough. If he decided to attack him, he'd be shot in the abdomen in approximately two to four seconds - human reflex times differed person to person - given the distance between them. He didn't have much of a choice but to stand there, motionless and in complete silence, at the mercy of this soldier. The man finally threw his radio at him, which Connor caught with one hand without even flinching. He dropped it on the ground, then stepped on it, breaking it in the process. He quickly rummaged the fainted guard's vest until he found the other transceiver, keeping eye contact with the man’s still conscious partner. When he found what he was looking for, he fixed it on his belt, picked up his coat from the ground and placed his other hand back on the machine gun. The radio was a good safety net now that he couldn’t stick to his original plan which was avoiding any contact - he could find out when they were pursuing him or when do they find out he slipped through. In either cases, he would have time to plan his moves. Relief filled him as he started to walk backward, passing the border of their settlement, keeping his aim on the guard until he couldn't see him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The LSAT is an existing American machine gun type, I just figured they'd probably have a more refined version of it in the future :D


	2. The case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what's this? An update?! Bet ya all thought I'm dead or something. Well not exactly, just did my internship, moved into a new place w/ my family and got a new job (for a while). Lot's of stuff I usually don't do that barely let my mind relax. But now I'm back and let me tell you, I'm totally planning to finish this fic. Just... not as quickly as I wanted to.

2038\. November 20th, Saturday

Connor arrived at the building thirty-six minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He decided to use the rest of his time to get a better look at the place. It was smaller than he expected, a dully crimson building in the heart of the industrial area of Detroit with a cosy, stylish coffee shop in the front, which must have been closed for years. The huge green logo was still hanging proudly from the brown and green frame of the walls. As Connor looked through the huge storefront, he found that everything inside seemed to be dusty but intact. He quickly circled the building to estimate the purpose of the whole structure. This was most likely the main warehouse and office of a once popular coffee shop chain with their own brand of coffee. They had shipped the coffee from here to every member of the caféchain, that was clearly indicated by the size of the building, the fenced off parking slots and huge metal entrances at the back. By the time Hank arrived, Connor had much more information about the building than they would have probably needed. Hank would have called him overly-cautious but in his own opinion, he simply ensured their safety in and around the building.

The lieutenant was wearing a long, thick, brown jacket, unzipped out of stubbornness rather than the temperature, simple black boots and a dark-green beanie which was a rare sight on him and didn’t suit him at all, another indication of how remarkably low the temperature was. His footsteps were mostly steady, the quickness indicated his displeasure with the temperature and there was an unusual pressure to his steps. Tiredness or frustration? Connor couldn’t tell until the man caught up to him and spoke - his voice lacked any kind of anger but he took great efforts to hide the tiredness from it, Connor could only tell its presence by his vital signs. A body overworked, ridden with stress and drowsiness.

“Connor, you look good.” The man said and his small, friendly smile seemed sincere.

Connor didn’t really understand what the lieutenant meant; clearly, he didn’t modify his appearance. Was it another form of greeting he hadn’t heard before? Or did he mean his clothes? He had several guesses what would the lieutenant say when they met but this one wasn’t among them.

 

“But I didn’t change—”

“Jesus, it was a compliment. Besides, what’s with the grinning? You look like a toddler that got his Christmas presents early.”

“I think I’m just happy to see my friend”, answered the android earnestly. He’d expected their conversation to go smoothly, but the man’s reaction to his answer indicated that his idea backfired.

“Well, umm…” Anderson became visibly embarrassed at the directness of Connor’s answer. “I’m glad to hear that.” He held out his hand, a gesture Connor did recognize as a form of greeting this time and was eager to return.

“Shit, Connor, your hand is fucking cold!” 

“I’m sorry, lieutenant, I should have warned you. The current temperature is twenty-nine degrees Fahrenheit which is six degrees less than the average lowest temperature in Detroit during November. I spent four hours and eleven minutes outside, my outer covering probably cooled down a bit more than what you are used to.”

Hank let out a wholehearted laugh. He didn’t think he would miss Connor’s mannerisms, but apparently, he did.

“It’s fine. Let's, get inside. There’s something I wanted to tell you but I don’t wanna catch a cold standing out here all night.” Hank was already eyeing the glass storefront and door, eager to break the glass then kick in the front door, but Connor put his hand on his shoulder before he could do so.

“I think it would be wiser to use the entrance reserved for members of the staff. That door doesn’t face the street thus is more discreet.”

“Figures. You know where it is?”

“Yes. I mapped the outside of the whole complex before your arrival.”

“Of course you fucking did.” 

Connor, ignoring the mocking tone, quickly turned around and sped up his steps towards the left side of the building. Near the back of the facility was indeed a sign saying ‘Staff only!’. Hank grabbed the door handle, but it didn’t budge. He stepped back and kicked the door in before Connor could offer to pick the lock.

“Ouch! This shit’s sturdier than it looks, ugh,” the lieutenant grumbled as he limped into the building. 

Connor followed him and closed the door behind them. He tried the light switch next to the door but without any success. If there was no electricity here, there was probably no electricity in the entire building. Connor reminded himself to set a fire after he found a comfortable place for Hank.

“Do you need medical assistance?”

“What? No, ‘course not. Probably just a bruise or pulled muscle or whatever. I used to do this a lot. Guess I'm just rusty.”

It occurred to Connor that he should ask the man to pull up the leg of his jeans, but he quickly dismissed the idea, reminding himself that he should trust the lieutenant a bit more. He rescheduled the question for a few hours later.

“Or maybe the door was reinforced with an additional metal layer inside against burglary,” Connor added to lift Hank's guilt.

“You're not stopping until you stomped my pride into the ground, huh?” The lieutenant grumbled. 

“I'm sorry,” Connor muttered back because he couldn't say anything else.

The first room they found themselves in was a moderately tiny lobby with a desk and a visibly dead plant to their right side, there were also few drawers on the wall behind the desk, probably serving as storage for all the paperwork employment comes with. In front of them were two doors - one leading to the dressing rooms and the other to a toilet according to their pictograms - but Connor supposed only he could see that so clearly unless Hank had built-in infrared optics too.

“Shit, it’s dark in here. Hang on, I’m gonna get my phone.”

“Follow me.” Connor didn’t wait for Hank’s answer, he grabbed the hand which was about to reach into a pocket and headed towards the dressing rooms. They cut through the men’s changing room, passing by hangers and metal lockers in large numbers. Connor was walking at a comfortable and even speed, bypassing objects in the widest angle possible to avoid making the limping man he was leading bump into anything. Hank didn’t say a single word but his blood pressure raised a bit, betraying him in his desperate attempt to keep his embarrassment a secret.

The android had guessed right: from the other entrance of the dressing rooms, they could get to either the café in the front or the huge facility in the back. He decided to go for the latter for the sake of remaining unnoticeable from outside the complex. After a long walk through a dull, windowless corridor that faintly smelled of raw coffee beans, they reached a crossing. Connor headed for the stairs.

“Watch your step, lieutenant.”

He tried his best to guide his partner through the two set of stairs but despite his best efforts Hank still managed to kick his feet into a few steps. They weren’t even at the end of the first set when he lost his patience. 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Hank yanked his hand away and fished his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. 

He passed by Connor, flashing the white LED light on the floor in front of him and mumbling to himself about his toes which were still in pain from kicking in the door. Connor picked up his speed and climbed the stairs, staying close to him. He softly scolded himself for believing Hank instead of personally determining the real degree of his injury.  
When they reached the top, he opened the first door on his left. It was an office, just as he expected. Plain, similar cubicles next to each other. The place couldn’t have been abandoned in a rush, because there were no computers, printers or any other electronics anywhere. Papers, on the other hand, were lying everywhere. There were barely any personal items left behind, the employees must have had plenty of time to pack. A financial collapse, maybe? He drew out a chair and put it in front of the still heavily wheezing Hank.

“Please, sit down.”

“You know, I missed you stepping into my personal space, Connor,” said the man in a tone that was odd and yet familiar to Connor. His LED turned yellow for a second. Then he started to smile. 

“Was that sarcasm?”

“No, of course not,” answered Hank, pressing harder on that tone. “Why would you think that?” he asked with a smile.

“Because I’m quite familiar with it. You used that tone seventy-two times during our conversations.” answered the android, lifting up a stack of papers from a nearby table.

“And you never got it before the whole deviating thing! You are getting better at getting reading the details, huh?”

“I guess so.” Connor felt pride light up in him, like the first sparkle of a bonfire. He straightened his back to an impossible angle. “Hold on, I’m going to start a fire. I just have to find a battery, or wires, or—”

“I have a lighter.”

“Oh.” Connor halted “I thought you didn't smoke. This explains why are you so restless tonight.” He didn't detect traces of cigarette on the man, he must had lit his last one at least half a day ago, which explained the anxiety The first sign of withdrawal.

He put the papers next to Hank and took the lighter from him, sliding the small metal object into the pocket of his trousers. The tasteless magenta rug that covered the floor was most certainly flammable. He looked around once more, searching for something that could contain the fire safely. Hank traced him lazily with his phone’s LED to occupy himself with something. He must have known Connor didn’t need the light as he was always tracing his figure and not what he was looking at. At the other end of the room, further than the last cubicle, were huge drawers. They looked like they were metal. Connor walked over, sliding his fingers over the smooth surface of one, registering that they were indeed made of metal. Then he dragged the drawer on the top out of its place. It wasn’t ideal in size but he had no other options since everything else was made of wood. Before he got back to Hank, he quickly opened a window, making sure that it was lined up with the future place of the fire so it could lead the smoke out, but still far away enough that nobody could pick up their conversation.

“Y’ know, you don’t have to be so paranoid. Nobody comes here. This place shut down like, four years ago. I should know, loved their coffee.”

“That might be the case, but there are still many functioning warehouses and factories in the area, potentially filled with employees.”

“True, industries won’t close down for the sake of some tiny android revolution.” Hank chuckled. “To answer your question, yeah, I put it down after… you know. But being stuck in the middle of nowhere sucks, and all the boys are frustrated and annoying as hell so I might pop a few cigs now and then.”

Connor drew the curtains on the windows closest to them before lighting the drawer full of paper and dragging another chair next to the lieutenant. He shook his head in disappointment. 

“I would go deeper into the health risks of smoking but one, you are more than likely aware of them, two, we have more important things to discuss. What is the reason you wanted to see me? I hope you are aware that I have difficulties in relocating.”

“Guess that means no smoking in front of you”, the man smiled. “I’m sorry for dragging you here. I know it’s not a good place out there for androids right now.” Hank let out a sigh, wrinkling the skin on his forehead - he was more troubled than Connor had speculated. “The truth is, I need your help. Of course, you can deny it, since you are not employed by the department anymore and I can’t offer you anything in exchange. So err, it’s more like a favour.”

Connor hesitated for a second. Should he tell the man about his way here and how he probably already had people searching for him as they were talking? He dismissed the thought, determining that Hank was already more stressed out than what was healthy.

“I think we are on acceptable terms for you to ask a favour from me, lieutenant.” Connor’s lips curled up for a little smile. “That is if the feeling of friendship is mutual.” From all the mannerisms the man showed so far, Connor concluded they were friends, but Hank never confirmed it. He felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. Was his statement too emotional? Did he come across as blunt?

“What’s with you and all this soppy-talk today, huh? ‘Course we’re friends, dammit.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile wider. He finally heard it from the man himself.

“Okay, enough. You’re freaking me out. Let’s stick to the topic.” exclaimed Hank, then he shuffled in his coat and from the inner pockets, he took something out. 

 

He handed a photograph to the android without saying anything about it. It was small and low-quality compared to what current technology was capable of, indicating that it was made using an older machine. Connor took it and before he could stop himself, he had already scanned it for fingerprints. Old habits die hard. Of course, he didn’t gain anything useful from that, just the hint that Hank must have made these himself, as there were no other fingerprints on it. There was an android in the photo, lying on his stomach in a pool of his own blue blood, surrounded by snow. He was wearing casual clothes.

“Two gunshot wounds, one at the—”

“Three.” Hank handed him another photograph. The android was lying on his back with a third wound on his abdomen that didn’t pierce the whole body.

“Whoever shot him was hesitating. They probably went for the main pump but hit one of the main arteries instead. No response, so they fired again.”

“Yeah, a rookie got him, poor fella never gunned anyone before. Got a real stage fright out there.”

“Why was he shot?” Connor tilted his head.

 

Instead of answering, Hank gave him a third photograph. This one was taken from a greater distance. Connor held it in front of him between three fingers, closer to the fire.

“It looks like he tripped and fell and… he was holding something.”

“He was running around, threatening people with a knife in the civil camp, saying all kinds of crazy shit.”

“The camp?” The android raised his head to look at the man, his face reflecting honest surprise. “Where did he come from? How did he get there?”

“We don’t know. I hoped you could tell if he is one of yours.”

“I have certainly seen this model before, it’s an FZ400. I would say that it’s not likely he was ours, but I can’t reach Jericho’s database from here to confirm this, since the network is still in establishment. I would need to see him in person to be able to tell if he was one of us or not.”

Hank was rubbing his hands together against the fire, letting out a little huff of air. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Why is that?”

“Because no matter how much I wanted to, I can’t let you go there.”

For some reason, anger bubbled up in Connor. He clenched his fists.

“So this is it? You made me come here for five minutes of talking?”

“Look, Connor, nobody wants androids there after—”

“Stop.” the android jolted up from his chair. 

For the first time, he was the one interrupting Hank. When he realized what had he done, he quickly sat back down and shook his head. He shouldn't direct his rage at Hank. It wasn't practical. It was his choice to come here no matter what, not the other's. He had decided whatever it is, he will help Hank. And if this was the end of it, then so be it.

“I apologize. I just feel frustrated. You made it look like it was urgent. I took my leave in utmost secrecy. I risked getting my biocomponents ruined. If I knew that I might have to go further, I could’ve made some arrangements. I could have asked for assistance from others who travel between the human and android camps.” When he realized that Hank’s face spelt out surprise, he continued. “We have a team who blended in. I thought you were fully aware that androids run the laps when you sent me that message.”

Connor smiled to himself. The system worked better than he thought. Even the police thought the messengers were human.

“No, I… nevermind that. How do you know the guy wasn’t one of them then?”

“It is not likely.” Connor shook his head. “We know what is at risk. The messengers were selected especially for this task. They are well-trained and nobody knows their exact route, nor their identities. Even I am kept in the dark.”

The lieutenant only answered with a grunt and after that, silence settled down between them. Hank’s eyes reflected disappointment. He clearly didn’t plan their meetup to go down like this. Connor considered going back to Jericho. The sooner the better - in the first few days, he had a higher chance at succeeding, since people would find it only logical that if someone slips out, they have a long-term plan of staying. He could catch them off-guard. Maybe they wouldn’t even pursue him if they saw he was going the other way. He felt restless. He wanted to stand up and just walk out before he could get Hank into trouble too, but a tightening feeling in his chest didn’t let him move even an inch. Hank was his friend, he shouldn’t let down a friend. But he didn’t know how to help him either. 

“So, what do you want me to do? My choices are quite limited.” 

He took the transceiver into his hands. It had been silent all night. The patrols at the border must have switched to another channel by now, they weren’t stupid. The man sitting next to him looked like he wanted to say something but Connor could tell it was about the device he was holding by the look on his face and the direction he was looking at, so he quickly cut the man off.

“If I go back now, they might be expecting me at the border. They could capture me with the right equipment. I can’t backup my data to the CyberLife cloud anymore. If someone decides to kill me, then I will be gone. Forever.”

The lieutenant’s eyes widened at the thought of Connor getting killed.  
The android started to spin a knob on the small apparatus with his fingers, slowly changing stations on the radio. He raised his voice a bit to speak over the flickering static.

“If I stay here, I will not be found, at least not in the first few days or weeks, depending on how big the team that conducts the search for me will be.”

He stared into the fire. He didn’t know how he felt, except that there was a wrenching in his gut. He tried to relax his facial muscles. He couldn't let Hank know he had doubts in his own predictions.

“And If I go with you, I risk a political scandal, as well as your job and respect.”

“To the hell with all the risks!” Hank sounded even more frustrated than before. “I need your help to get to the end of this fucking case before shit hits the fan.”

 

When the man saw the android giving him a puzzled look, he took a deep breath and reorganized his thoughts. Connor and idioms still didn't walk hand in hand. He opened his mouth but a deep voice interrupted him. It was coming from the device in Connor’s hand. He quickly stopped the dial and adjusted it ever so slightly to make the voice sound clearer.

“...gap. Eight, five, twelve, gap. Three, twenty-five, seven, gap. Seven, five, twenty-three double, twenty-one, seven double. Over.”

“Copy.” answered another voice.

They both sat there in silence, staring at the device.

“What was that?” Hank spoke into the silence, scratching his chin in frustration.

“I’m not sure. It did not sound like something the military would use. I stored it in my memory. Should I try to decode it now? The estimated time is forty-two minutes.”

“No, I should go soon or they’ll catch me sneaking back.”

“Okay.” That was all he could say. But he was glad the frustration made Hank speak his mind. He was desperate for help. The investigation must have halted.

For about a minute they didn’t say anything. Connor closed his eyes and concentrated on the cracking of the fire in front of them. He’d have to get a new stack of paper soon, paper burns down quickly. Or maybe not, since Hank would leave soon, and the smoke wasn’t good for him anyways. He grew hesitant. He clung onto Hank’s heartbeat - it never occurred to him before how alone he felt without the other in the last few days. He had trouble with deepening his bonds with the other androids in Jericho. The lieutenant was the closest person to him. And even he felt like he was lightyears away.

Hank let out a heavy sigh and Connor opened his eyes to meet his gaze, not trying to hide his concern in the slightest. The man broke the heavy, seventy-five seconds-long silence - Connor was counting it.

“Look, Connor, I know I sounded selfish and 'm sorry, okay? But I'm not asking for your help for myself. We can't tell the suspect's intentions or whether he's alone or not. We can't confirm that this is an individual case. If this gets out, we'll be in bigger trouble than we would be if anyone discovered you snuck out.” 

Connor kept staring at him as he was talking, analyzing his every move. No revealing body language, no rise in heart rate. He told the truth, going as far as begging Connor. A behaviour that was highly unnatural for a man like him. Mass panic in the media. Connor thought about the probability of such a thing happening, estimating the possible outcomes. Yes, the lieutenant’s worry made perfect sense.

“That is most certainly true.”

“So” Hank’s eyes were fixated on his shoes. He tried to swallow his pride, despite the fact that Connor was the last person who would belittle him for pleading. “Are you gonna help me? Even if it means going beyond this meeting and taking higher risks?”

“Yes.” Connor couldn’t help but notice the way Hank’s shoulders relaxed. “But how are you planning to take me to the camp? Your body-language suggests that you already have something in mind.”

“Well, right now everything’s a mess. The case is too fresh, happened this morning, we don’t know much yet. I have a bunch of newbies to look after, they made me babysit the boys fresh out of the academy. But yes, you could say I have an idea.”

“I’m listening, Hank.”

“Remember the android with the child? Her hair colour didn’t match the database. Can you do the colour-changing hocus pocus too?”

Connor flashed a cunning smile at Hank. He already figured out the other’s idea. “I possess the ability, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave your opinions in the comment section and don't forget that I'm looking for a beta reader, so lemme know if you know someone who enjoys being a grammar-geek, I like my fics beta-read rough ;)


	3. Nephew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, another chapter? Ha! Joke's on you, I chose this piece as my NaNoWriMo victim- I mean subject, after I failed to realize my first idea. 
> 
> (I wrote the first um, maybe quarter of this chapter on a gloomy day at 3 am, I'm terribly sorry.)

2038\. November 22nd, Monday 

Connor didn’t know his chest could feel so heavy, but as he was taking his steps towards the camp in broad daylight, all by himself, wearing Hank’s beanie, he was filled with anxiety. He had already run some diagnostics but they showed no software or hardware errors, which only made him worry more, since it meant that it was a feeling. And Connor didn’t like this feeling. He made one last attempt to even his facial expression. The sea of white, plastic tents were surrounded by lightweight fence with barbed wire on top. Connor grimaced. The humans didn’t plan for the distant future with this equipment and he couldn’t guess whether they were being optimistic or pessimistic. He approached the place from the furthest side, the one people coming from outside the city would choose, just like they discussed it with Hank. The entrance was open but had two young men guarding it. The freshly graduated police officers Hank told him about. When they noticed him, the two boys straightened their backs.

“What is your reason to visit?” If Connor could, he would have gulped in that very moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Hank’s words. He already had the protocols in him. Countless dialogue options. He just had to choose the one that would sound the most naturally. 

“I am looking for Hank Anderson.” he said, his voice modified. Different tone, slightly higher pitch.

Before the boys could answer, Connor heard a snorting noise. It was coming from behind the officer on the right. He slowly leaned forward and noticed a man sitting in a small, three-walled tent, reading a newspaper. A new wave of anxiety washed through Connor. It was Fowler.

“Are you really looking for him?” The man stood up to step in front of him and adjusted his grey scarf so his mouth became uncovered. “What would anyone want from him right here?”

“I’m here to visit him. I’m his nephew.” 

Fowler gasped. He made a small coughing sound to excuse himself for his unprofessional behaviour. “I had no idea he has a nephew. I had no idea he has… anybody.” Suspicion sat in his eyes. “Does he know you’re coming?”

“No.” Connor scratched his back awkwardly. He started to feel more confident with his act. “I lost my luggage including my phone. It’s a long story.”

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna call him and we will see what he says. Just don’t move, okay?”

Connor nodded. Even though the man moved away from the tent, the android could hear every word from the conversation. Hank asked for a description of his looks. When he received it, he confirmed Connor’s identity immediately. Everything was going smoothly.

“Well, let’s just say that we asked for your ID and went through all the necessary shit.” Fowler flashed a small smile at him. Connor had never seen him so friendly before.   
“Robins, escort him to the central… tent.” His voice indicated a lack of dignity towards their temporary headquarters. 

“Thank you.”

“‘S fine. You are a good kid, supporting your uncle in times like this.” He clasped a hand on Connor’s back, a gesture he didn’t see coming. “Just be careful. We don’t know what’s gonna happen to this mess of a city.”

“Okay.” 

And with that, Connor took a few steps forwards. The young adult who Fowler called Robins quickly bypassed the android and led the way towards the Police Station. They spent the whole walk in silence. Connor was constantly mapping the area as he walked. A quarter of the city must have lived there at most, which would be logical since a little bit more than half of the city was still full of residents and people who were evacuated would seek out holiday houses, hostels or their relatives’ houses in case of a situation like this. Only those who couldn’t find any other place for the time being would stay here. Some people had trailers or mobile homes, but most lived in state-issued tents. Those were made of materials with good insulating properties but that didn’t mean they were comfortable too. Big signs, layered with neon that would light up at night, indicated the most important services - a hospital, a supermarket, a gas station - these were all bigger tents with either wooden or metallic supporting beams. 

Hank was already waiting for them in front of the makeshift Police Station. The big edifice looked haunting with its lack of windows and the black material that was used to cover most of the surfaces from the outside. He looked even paler in natural daylight, his hair was messy and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like his blood sugar levels were low but Connor knew this wasn’t the right time to comment on that so he waited for the other to react first.

“Kyle!” 

Connor tried not to flinch upon hearing the word. He understood the choice - Hank picked a name starting with the same sound as his to lessen the chance of getting it wrong by accident -, but still for some reason he didn’t like it. Hank looked surprised and Connor couldn’t help but smile because he knew that the man’s reaction was mostly to his looks. Golden locks, barely reaching the tip of his ears and similarly blond stub on his face to soften the line of his jaws. He even changed his eye colour to match the lieutenant’s.

Hank embraced him in a tight hug. Connor felt the man’s head moving, he nodded at the officer behind Connor’s back before letting him go.

“Hello, Hank! Sorry, I didn’t tell you I was coming. There was chaos at the airport and I lost my bag.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid! How’s Sheryl doin’?”

“She’s fine.” Connor was listening to the gentle crunch of footsteps in the snow behind him. He knew exactly when would the young officer get out of their earshot.

“I made it.” He felt his muscles relaxing.

“Sure you did. I’ve never seen you so tense before.”

“I’m sorry. I... “ Connor knew if he explained the situation in the shortest way possible, Hank wouldn’t understand it. He was searching for a metaphor. “Imagine a pilot who flies planes. A human pilot. He was trained to do the task, but he usually uses the autopilot which makes the best possible decisions for him. Being deviant is a bit like losing that autopilot. I am still capable of the things I could do before but now I have to control everything manually. What I say and how I say it, my blinking, my breathing. My algorithms calculate the best and most accurate answers for me but those don’t necessarily overlap with the answers a human would want to hear.”

“Don’t sweat it, Connor. You’ll be fine. But now I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you at my place, since I’m still working.”

“I’m aware of that fact, Hank. I timed my arrival to take you by the element of surprise thus making your reaction more genuine and believable.”

“I was more surprised about your face. I know I left the decision to you but you look like..” Hank looked away. “Like you could be my son.”

Connor felt like something tighten in his abdominal area and dull pain spread in his chest. He ran self-diagnostics. Nothing. He felt confused. He went for a familiar look after Hank told him his plan but he never considered that it could backfire. He realized the feeling he felt was guilt.

 

“I apologize. I should have been-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” the lieutenant quickly waved him off. “Less suspicious this way. Follow me, I’ll show you my ‘crib’.” Hank chuckled to himself but it lacked real joy. 

The man took off quickly and Connor followed him silently. They walked past a few smaller tents and light-framed buildings, portable toilets and shower units. There were cables on the ground everywhere, mostly for electricity. He wondered if the messengers ever reported about this place to Jericho. He wondered if Markus visited this place before he left. The humans’ living conditions were far from ideal out here. He shook his head at the thought. Figuring out why did that other android do what he did was priority. 

The walk wouldn’t have been long if it wasn’t for Hank. He introduced each and every colleague to Connor they happened to bump into. Connor was confused since he knew all but one of them but he nodded politely to every one of them. He would have plenty of time to ask the lieutenant about that later.

“There it is,” said Hank as he unlocked the door of a small, white, rectangular building.  
Connor had never been in a mobile home before. He found it very practical. The kitchen was directly on his left, opened into the small living room. Everything was within arm’s reach, no distracting decoration or useless spaces. 

“You can settle down in the room in front of you. At least now I don’t have to feel bad about having two rooms for myself while the youngsters are cramped together.”

The room Hank mentioned was very small. It contained a single bed, bedside table and a slim cabinet. He looked to the right. There was a second bedroom at the end of the tiny corridor with its door wide open. It was just as messy as the bedroom in Hank’s apartment. Double bed with a small desk in front of it, accompanied by a mirror. And clothes everywhere.

“Where’s Sumo?”

 

“Left him at home. Mrs. Lett next door agreed to feed him. Thought the moving would be too much stress for him.” Hank leaned over the kitchen sink, poured himself a glass of water and quickly drank it. He seemed tired and his eyes told the story of several sleepless nights. He sighed in relief. “Much better. Gotta go now. See you at six. Make yourself at home, or whatever.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Hank!”

Hank didn’t seem to be in a good mood. He didn't bother with a proper goodbye and only answered with a grunt before walking out, slamming the door but leaving it unlocked. Connor was left alone with his thoughts. Hank didn’t tell him what to do nor gave him a spare key. Did that mean he had to stay in the house? He sat down on his bed, looking out the small window in front of him. Elderly and poor families were affected by the evacuation the most. If there was another incident, they would be hard to relocate. He felt the urgent need to run outside, to get out there and solve the case right away. There were approximately six hours and eleven minutes left until Hank's return. Acting on his own had several risks, which meant he had to wait for the lieutenant. He stood up and occupied the small bathroom next to his room. He took off the beanie and ran his fingers through the blond hair. The new length made his hair harder to tame. He made a mental note to figure out a comfortable but elegant wear for it later. He looked at his led, spinning blue as always. For some reason, he couldn't part with it. Wearing only a hat to cover it meant a high risk of reveal. He needed something else to cover it, something that was harder to detach than a plain hat. Maybe a band-aid? He should ask Hank about it later. He stepped out to the corridor and took off his jacket and shoes - putting them down as neatly as possible - before heading towards Hank's bedroom. He knew well he was violating the man's privacy but curiosity got the best of him. The room smelled like it wasn’t ventilated for days. Sweat, food - mostly pizza - and traces of alcohol. Connor went back to the kitchen and kept digging in the cabinets until he found some trash bags. He put the carton boxes and glasses into separate bags in case there were recycle bins around and collected the dirty clothes into one corner of the room. He peeked into the suitcase next to the bed. Hank had five days of clean clothes left, that is if he changed his underwear and shirt daily. He opened the only window in the room and took out the trash into the hall. A clean and tidy environment improves one’s mood, that has been a known fact for decades. He really hoped it would improve Hank’s quality of sleep as well. He stayed in the kitchen and took a look at the mini fridge. There was beer - of course -, hot sauce, cheese and butter. The state of the place indicated that Hank either wasn’t allowed to leave the camp to shop, didn’t have time to visit the small supermarket set up inside or was too lazy to do that and kept ordering takeaways. He listed all the food he found in the cabinets while he was searching for bags earlier: rice, flour, canned food, and pasta. Hank probably grabbed the first things his mind could associate with durable-food when he left his house. Connor wanted to cook something from these ingredients, but he didn’t have access to any networks to get creative with the recipe. He could go with something that resembled mac’n’cheese, only lacking the milk. He dismissed the idea when upon further observation he found out that the cheese was already mouldy and decided to collect the litter in the small living-room instead. When he finished, he sat back on his bed. He didn’t know what else he could do. He kept thinking about Jericho. The others must have noticed his absence by now. Will they look for him? He didn’t really fit in, after all. Several androids had a grudge on him, besides he wasn’t on their side from the start and Markus probably only pitied him because he was an android too and it wouldn't be very leader-like to abandon one of your own. But even though Markus tried, he couldn’t find a task important enough - by Connor's standards - to give him after the revolution. He wasn’t useful anymore. Markus always had a few good words for him whenever they met but if he’d really trusted him, he would have given him responsibilities. And now here he was with Hank, who too only contacted him because he needed help. Seventy-five. Seventy-five percent was the chance of Hank dismissing him as soon as they were done with the case. And then he would - if he even could - go back to Jericho to be even more purposeless and remain mere penpals with the lieutenant. Connor felt desperate at the thought of being all alone again, of just simply being thrown away after there’s no use for him anymore. His body’s reaction accompanying the feeling paralyzed him, pinning him to the bed. It was thick and cut deep, like a sharp dagger. And somewhere far away he felt himself falling off the bed. The outside world was like a lighthouse in the distance; he was trying to walk towards it but he was in the eye of the storm, being blown further and further away by the strong wind. He felt his fans whirring up, his hardware overclocking to keep up the pace. He saw simulations, too many at once, collapsing into each other.  
Inside him, a single voice kept whispering. Useless useless useless useless. It was his own. He wanted to run self-tests to find the source of this malfunction to put a stop to this madness at once, but he couldn’t even think, all of his processing power was taken up by the simulations. Everything felt uncomfortably hot. Then emergency shutdown kicked in and he sunk into the void.

 

“Connor? Hey!” 

He winced when he felt something touching his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Apparently, he was lying on the floor, shaking. How odd. Hank was standing over him. He retreated his hand at Connor’s sudden movement.

“Hank? What, what is-” he spoke up but he lost his train of thought as soon as he opened his mouth. He saw warning popups everywhere. His voice was faint and lacked the previous modulations.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He sat up and put his lower back against the bedside table.

“How can I help you?”

“I don’t know!” He took off his beanie and combed back his hair with his fingers. “The window. Open the window.”

Hank leaned over him to reach the window. He recognized the smell of the cologne that hit his nose from the morning. The memory calmed him down a bit. He took a deep breath, inhaling the chilly evening air besides the cologne. He already felt better.  
Hank was still standing in front of him, visibly worried. Fresh snowflakes sat on the shoulder of his coat.

“I think I was just overheating. I will be fine.” Connor stood up, grabbing the wall and window frame for leverage. He wanted to go outside, to be anywhere but in a room with Hank. He couldn’t see him like this. He took a step forward but his energy resources were unevenly distributed, busy with cooling him down as soon as it was possible and soon he found himself being held up by Hank.

“Easy there.” 

Connor felt the flow of thirium increasing in his cheeks. Oh no. He took a step back and shook his shoulders to make the man release him. He felt embarrassed, no, more like humiliated. Hank absolutely shouldn’t have seen him like this. He wasn’t being efficient. His mental state wasn’t suitable to safely proceed with the investigation.

“Get out.”

“No offense kid but you ain’t looking like you will be fine.” Hank formed quotation marks with his fingers at the last word.

A thick, gooey feeling sat in Connor’s chest. He was mad at himself for already being a burden to Hank, it felt bad. “Get out, please. I need some time alone.” 

Hank hardened his gaze on him, but he retreated anyways. 

“Alright, alright. I will be back in a few hours. I still have to check some reports anyways.” he answered as he left the room, closing the door after himself.

A few minutes later Connor could hear him typing away on his old laptop through the paper-thin walls. He secretly wished they wouldn’t proceed with the investigation because Hank would probably send him back to Jericho as soon as they were finished, where he… He’d do what? He’d spend his days doing nothing, living off of Markus’ pity, that’s what. Sadness washed over him and he hugged his knees with his arms, desperately trying to hide from the world. Nobody told him how heavy and impactful feelings can be. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of typing. Sometimes he could hear Hank grunting, coughing or speaking to himself about how kids couldn’t write proper reports nowadays. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling, deep in thoughts. He knew he had to figure out a way to regulate his emotions or he'll end up causing further problems for Hank, who'd most probably react negatively to another incident. Even though they were friends, Connor shouldn’t have expected the man's empathy about his emotional trauma since the lieutenant couldn't even cope with his own trauma. He also risked causing permanent damage to himself. If emergency shutdown wouldn’t have started, he could have short-circuited, damaging his software. He decided to run some self-tests.

Connor emerged from his room one hour and forty-one minutes later. His room, he thought. The first thing he truly owned, even if it was temporary. His hair was messy, shirt wrinkled. He felt the urge to go check himself in the bathroom mirror to get those long locks out of his eyes but Hank was priority. Besides, he looked worse when Hank found him. 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Connor choked back a sigh, opting for a polite smile. Yes, his reputation was definitely ruined.

“I would like to inform you about the fact that I could have assisted you with that task if you asked me.” He pointed towards the laptop. “And I think I still should, since you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Hank waved off the android. “I didn’t have time to wait until you emerge from your cocoon. Besides, I’m not tech-savvy but I do know that androids don’t overheat without a reason, so just stay on your ass and stop babysitting me. I’ve already ordered pizza.” 

Connor leaned against the kitchen counter. Hank didn’t even look up from the report he was reading but his voice sounded worried. He did notice it, huh? Well, this wasn’t the first time he underestimated the man.

“I don’t think-”

“Pizza’s not healthy, yes, I know. But do I look like I have the time or patience to cook?”

Connor didn’t answer. The lieutenant seemed overwhelmed with paperwork and had a hard time adapting to his temporary living conditions. Connor wanted to help out with the housework too but he wasn’t sure if voicing his opinion was a good idea. Hank had a fragile ego, after all. 

“Ugh. They think if they have nothing interesting to report, they should fill the rest in with something. This guy saw a squirrel. A fucking squirrel! What are they teaching kids nowadays?” Hank slammed the cover of his laptop down and stretched his arms. “That’s it, I’m taking a shower before I fall asleep from this boring bullshit.” Connor watched him stumble into the small bathroom on his cramping legs, almost slipping on the wooden floor in his socks.

By the time Hank was back, Connor sat by the small table with a box of pizza in front of him.

“Oh you- Found my wallet.” He noted as he was drying his hair with a small towel.

“Of course. You have been keeping it in the inner pocket of your coat ever since I first met you.” 

Hank had a faint sign of embarrassment on his face. “Am I getting that old and predictable, huh? Thanks.”

“You are welcome.”

The man sat down into the chair opposite of Connor.

“About the trash too.” with his thumb he poked towards the direction at which Connor collected the bags earlier. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Improving one’s general well-being improves work performance too.”

Hank let out a sigh. “So that’s your reason, huh? I said stop babysitting me. You are not here for that.”

Connor felt a familiar pain in his chest. No protocols made him do what he did, it was his own idea and decision. Still, somehow that sentence just came out wrong and wounded the lieutenant. He made a mental note to look into that later.

“I apologize for - as you would say - ‘killing the mood’.”

“Holy shit, Connor, you don’t know how to let things go silently, do you? Just stop. Freaking stop. It’s no big deal.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare to apologize once more or I’ll punch you right in that pump of yours.”

“Okay, sorry.”

Hank buried his forehead into his free hand. “Just stay silent, and let me eat my damn food in peace, alright?”

They indeed spent the next ten minutes in silence.

“Listen,” Hank said as he stood up from the small table. “Although I planned to do this later, let’s get a look at our ex-suspect right now. You can use your fancy sensors and I can get some fresh air.”

Connor must have looked enthusiastic upon hearing the idea because the lieutenant let a small smile sneak onto his face. “That’s what I thought. Get your coat, we’re going right after I dry my hair.”

 

“Not many people out here, huh?” Connor asked as Hank was closing up the trailer behind him. The silence out there was much deeper than on an average night in Detroit.

“There’s a curfew after eleven. There will be some people on patrol and nobody wants to bump into them as they can call us any time.” He took off and Connor followed him silently. The lieutenant did a pretty well job for someone who had been there only for a few days, he navigated between the tents flawlessly despite the darkness. His execution was less optimal, though.

“I think there is a shorter route to-”

“Don’t. This is the only way I know, if you mess it up, I will get lost on the way back.”

Connor wanted to offer his guidance but he decided it was better to stay silent this time. He was constantly scanning his environment as they walked, ready to deal with anything that might come at them. Hank stopped a few meters away from the building.

 

“Is there a problem?”

“Security cams.”

“Give me a minute.”

Connor closed his eyes and Hank knew his led was blinking yellow even without seeing it.

“I hacked the cameras and made them loop the footage of the last half an hour.”

“Is there any other fancy, secret ability of yours I don’t know about?”

“Probably. I’m a prototype after all.” Connor answered, accompanying his words with a wink.

Hank answered with a scoff. “Apparently being cocky is one of them.” 

He headed towards the building and Connor followed closely. The man put his hand on the scanner then peaked through the slightly opened door. He raised his free hand behind his back. The android took a few steps backwards. Hank closed the door silently before turning back to Connor.

“Jackson, that idiot, he’s still in,” he whispered. “Just been here for a month but I’ve never seen such a workaholic before. It’s past ten, this guy’s nuts.”

Connor remembered him from earlier. Matthew Jackson. The only person he didn’t know among the higher DPD staff. Mid-thirties, brown eyes, short black hair pinned back on the sides of his head and a surprisingly mellow voice. He was already a detective, must have transferred here from somewhere else.

“Stay here.”

And with that Hank was gone again, leaving Connor by himself in front of the huge tent. He heard Hank’s voice through the door, but it was surprisingly muffled, which made him realize that the tent’s material was multilayered. He got on his knees and grabbed the end of the material overhanging onto the ground to inspect and analyze it. Waterproof and insulation were default features but he discovered a bulletproof layer too. Then suddenly the footsteps were nearing so he straightened up, ready to either jump on whoever was nearing the entrance or just to run away.

“But it’s a lock. On a cabinet. In an already locked room.” that was Hank’s voice.

“Yes, but what if someone breaks in, or I lose the key?” Mellow voice. Jackson.

“For the hundredth time, Matthew…” Hank let out a sigh just the moment the front door slid away. 

Connor leaned against the tent as tightly as he could and stopped simulating breathing. The two men stepped outside.

“Look, you really don’t have to worry about that. But now if you excuse me, I’ve got some reports to find and print.”

They stopped a few steps away from Connor with their backs to him. Hank held out his hand for a handshake and Connor used this moment to silently creep into the tent through the door which was left open. It was warm and bright inside. Some kind of soft, dark plastic was laid down to make walking easier and to hide all the cables running under the tent. The whole frame was made of metal and the different rooms were separated by white, hardened sheets hanging from the beams with proper doors. Connor quickly scanned the area to make sure he was alone then took off his beanie and straightened his hair with his hands.

“He lied to you.” He said as soon as he heard the familiar steps behind him.

“Yes, I know.” Hank pushed a button and let the glassdoor slide into place behind him. “The guy’s a terrible liar. He was nowhere near the locker room.” He scratched a spot on his jaw. “What does he want to store here anyways?” 

There was a smaller space in front of them, separated by a counter and a few chairs and kitchen appliances, which probably served as a reception and break room at the same time. They cut through it and walked straight through the corridor connected to it.

“Maybe jewelry?”

“Connor, that was a hypothetical question.” the lieutenant shot a questioning look at Connor. “But okay, you made me interested, go on.”

“In a poll from 2030, where people were asked about their most valuable material possessions, the two most popular answers by far were electronics and jewelry. Considering the size of a standardized locker-”

Hank burst out laughing. He even stopped in his tracks and leaned forward for a more dramatic effect. “And I thought you had a valid reason for a second.” 

“I—”

“Is that an apology?” Hank let out a sigh and got a moderately sized ring of keys into his hands as he took a few, slow steps towards the end of the pale corridor.

“Yes.” Connor uncomfortably shifted his balance back and forth between his legs behind the man. 

“Then don’t.” The lieutenant went through the keys on his keychain one by one until he found the one he was looking for.

“Can’t hack the locking mechanism if there’s nothing to be hacked.” Noted Connor as the man in front of him opened the first lock on the door. Then he proceeded to unlock a second one, and finally a padlock.

“Exactly.”

The intention was good, but the execution was poor, Connor noted.

The room smelled of plastic and the air was heavy with dust. To Connor’s surprise, the room had reinforced, greyish walls in the inside and lacked any windows. Hank turned a switch on and white, bright filled the room, stronger than outside. This was the only room that used better lighting than the rest of the place.

“Lo and behold, the evidence room.”

“Pretty impressive given the time you had to make arrangements.”

“Well, since a certain someone managed to hack the storage system, we decided to go techless.”  
Connor let out a little chuckle. Barely there, but Hank could still pick it up since they stood side by side.

“Wow, and I thought I’ll be dead before I’d hear you laugh.”

“I’m guessing that this is the part where I don’t comment on your last sentence.”

“You’re a genius, Connor!” Hank’s voice was thick with sarcasm but to Connor’s surprise, he didn’t look like he had any suicidal thoughts. He didn’t seem depressed at all. Rather the opposite. He even made a tiny clapping motion with his hands. He was healing, Connor thought, smiling to himself. Finally.

The three walls around them were covered with metallic shelves from the ceiling to the ground. Hank walked towards the side located on their left and pulled a huge, light blue metal box out of it. All the cases on the walls regardless of length were made to fit the height of the shelves. The case Hank pulled out of the wall made a loud and deep whirring sound because of how little air was stuck between the case and the shelf itself.

“The kids fresh out of academy call this the ‘farting room’.” He carefully placed the case on the short metal table somewhat in the middle of the room - Connor was slightly bothered by the asymmetry of its position. He quickly scanned the box - 3d printed with maximum density, made of a stronger type of plastic. As durable as it gets.

“Well, here he is.” The lieutenant unlocked two metal clasps and lifted off the cover of the huge plastic case. Inside there laid the android. The pictures the man took were probably only hours after the android was killed because here he was already neatly arranged, clothes straightened, somebody even remembered to close his eyes. Just like a corpse in a basket. Connor grew a bit hesitant at the sight. He suddenly remembered all the moments he could have ended up dead. 

“Go on, do your thing.”

The lieutenant’s words zapped him back into reality. He tried to keep a straight face as he leaned down to get the leaked thirium off of the coat of the FZ400 model and onto his hand. He felt rather self-aware as the lieutenant watched him lick the blue blood off of his fingers.

“Serial 345 558 107, his name was John. I met him in Jericho.”

“Shit. Anything else?”

“I could try to connect with him but unless we have at least one gallon of thirium, I can’t bring him back thus cannot talk to him. I am not sure what kind of data I can salvage as of now.”

“Still worth giving it a try, ain’t it?”

“Yes.”

Connor placed the palm of his hand on the dead android’s forehead because that was the easiest patch of skin to access. Feelings and memories flooded and overtook him, dulling his own senses.

Everything is white. Snow? - I can have fun here. - he was given coordinates - I can have fun anywhere. I must have fun anywhere. - he was given the knife too - People. I must show these people how to have fun. - he didn’t realize what he was really doing - Come here and play with me! - Was he programmed to be delusional? - Why are you yelling and running? - this is where they shot him - Pain. I’m hurt. Why am I hurt?

Connor took away his hand when the first wave of pain reached him. He unconsciously took a few steps back and grabbed his stomach.

“Are you okay?” 

“He… said he was having fun.”

“What?”

“He was enjoying threatening people. This is impossible. Illogical. We must make him work. I want to know more! I want to talk to him!”

“Sorry, that can’t happen. Not now, not how things are.”

“Yes, I am aware. But the information I gained just made me even more confused. I just want to see the rest. We are missing something Hank, I am sure of it!” Connor suddenly lifted up his head and looked at Hank, waiting for something.

“Hank, where’s the knife?”

The man stepped closer to the body again. “You mean it’s not there? I thought it was collected.”

“No. Weren’t there any evidence stored separately?”

“None that I know of. Although this isn’t my case, I was there when Adams went through all the evidence. Now that you mention it, didn’t see the knife back then either. Wasn’t sent to analysis for some reason, I remember ‘cuz I found that fucking weird. Hmmm. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Someone took it.”

“Bingo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if this chapter is a mess. Although I'm planning to educate myself about commas (we put a comma after literally everything in my mother tongue so English is quite a barren land compared to that) and the right dialogue structure and I'd go back to reformat all the chapters after that, I could still use the help of a beta who would be able to point out all the mistakes I might have made (and who would be able to read my chapters sooner than the rest of you - just sayin').  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, have a nice day!


	4. Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back with another chapter. Sorry, it's a bit shorter than the last one, but I cannot reveal everything at once, can I?  
> 

  1. November 23rd, Tuesday 



 

It was twenty-four minutes past one o’clock when Connor stepped outside the house. If Hank was awake to ask him, he’d probably have a hard time coming up with a convincing lie and he would definitely not share the truth with Hank - not like the reason mattered since he wouldn’t let him go because of the curfew anyway. But he wasn’t so Connor was free to wander off. He chose to take a walk mainly to properly process the information he got in of the last few hours, but more importantly to find out the cause of his overheating. Androids don’t panic. They don’t lose control of their bodies and sense. It wasn’t supposed to happen, even with deviants.

 

He walked past the Police Station, turning left, thus heading to an area still unknown for him. He saw no reason not to complete his mental map of the place when he was already outside. Not being connected to any networks put him into a terrible disadvantage and he knew he had to take every opportunity he could to gain information. Suddenly he felt someone’s eyes on his back, so he halted between two tents and swiftly spun around, but by the time he was facing its direction, there wasn’t anything there anymore. He couldn’t do a proper scan as the tents were packed too closely, blunting every signal with the constant electrical humming of cables. Heat-cameras were out of the question too, the occupied tents were a perfect cover for a person. He kept walking, even slowed down his pace a bit. There it was again. The feeling of being watched. Something moving, always in the corner of his eye, vanishing the moment he turned around. One thing was for sure, it wasn’t someone from curfew patrol, that person would have already called him out. So whoever it was, could be harmful. He had to prepare for the worse. He headed towards the end of the camp where the tents were getting sparser - he was determined to catch his follower. He didn't have enough space to take advantage of his agility and even the sky wasn’t as clear as the night before, neither of which were really in his favour. He closed his eyes and did another scan. An android. He loosened his shoulders, pretending to stargaze. He heard the steps of whoever was following him closing up. He smiled - they underestimated him. He blindly reached behind him with his right hand and grabbed the first thing he could reach and spun around on his heels instantly. He was holding the wrist of a girl. Short, wavy blond hair, emerald eyes. He knew this face. He softly shoved up the fabric of her coat so he could directly touch her wrist. As he checked her serial, the skin on his fingers slowly retracted, giving way to the snow-white cassis. He lifted his gaze and initiated communication. If he wanted to remain totally discreet, he couldn’t even take advantage of the mobile and television antennas, restricting him to direct contact with whoever android he wanted to talk to.

 

_ I know you. You are Cynthia, right? Why are you following me? _

 

The other android didn’t look him in his eyes.

 

_ I asked you a question, why are you following me? _

 

No answer. She tried to get her hand free but that only made Connor tighten his grip.

 

_ You know who I am. So I assume you also know what I am capable of. If you refuse to answer any further, I will have to apply violence. _

 

Connor tightened his grip even more, fingers digging into her skin. Of course, he didn’t want to hurt her, just scare her a bit. He felt relieved - he was still capable of bluffing. The shame was long gone from her face, she was visibly scared, her wide eyes finally on Connor’s and mouth pressed into an uncomfortable, thin line.

 

_ I’m sorry, Connor. We were asked to watch over you. _

 

_ Why? Who’s gonna deliver messages now? _

 

_ Jericho doubled our numbers. Your sudden disappearance made you a possible threat. _

 

Connor clenched his teeth. This couldn’t be happening. He wished Markus was back. This would have never happened if he was currently in charge. Connor didn’t like being followed around but obviously, adding new messengers was the bigger mistake here. Only the most socially sensitive and agile androids were suitable to deliver messages. Anyone who lacked one or both risked getting their cover blown. This could end very badly if he didn’t stop it right now. He knew he had to be very careful with his words. He was the one starting their interaction, he had to remain in charge of the situation.

 

_ Do you know an FZ400 model, serial 345 558 107? He was a messenger too, right? _

 

_ Yes, why? And what do you mean ‘was’- _

 

_ Did he do anything suspicious in the last few days? When was the last time you saw him? _

 

_ I don’t know… I don’t think so, no. I haven’t seen him around that much but when I did, he seemed normal. Why? Did he do something? _

 

Connor hardened the expression on his face. 

 

_ Just answer me. When was the last time you saw him? _

 

_ Three days ago. He said he’s gonna check something before going back to Jericho. What’s going on, Connor? _

 

Connor showed her his memories about the body lying in the plastic crate. She covered her mouth with her free hand.

 

_ No, this- _

 

_ He was shot the day before yesterday. This is why I’m here.  _

 

He gently pulled her a bit closer to him and quickly scanned for lurking humans. When he didn’t find any, he continued.

 

_ Listen, this can’t get out into the open, as it has a high chance to cause a scandal in the media which could ruin everything we have been fighting for. I will try my best to find the culprit but you have to convince Jericho to stop this. Tell them I’m not on their side anymore, tell them I have gone mad and want to live here, whatever fabrication you can make up. Just please, make them stop following me. Also, you must keep John’s incident a secret. I will reach out to Markus when I know what’s going on but until then, you must not tell this to anyone. I don’t want anyone else to get in harm’s way. Do you understand? Can you do these for me? _

 

He stared into her eyes, not a muscle moving on his face. He knew not everyone trusted him from Jericho and that his past put him into a disadvantage but he remained hopeful. The messengers were a very tightly-knitted group and he played on her empathy to earn her alliance. 

 

_ Yes.  _

 

She visibly nodded to emphasize her answer. Tears sat in the corner of her eyes. Connor wanted to comfort her but she looked like she needed space so he opted for a tiny smile instead.

 

_ Thank you. When will you go back? _

 

_ In two days. I gotta check up on something before. _

 

Connor froze. She said the same thing John said according to her.

 

_ What do you mean? _

 

_ It’s nothing, really. Just a small thing. I can tell you when I get back if you want me to. _

 

He hesitated. Should he ask her? What if it’s connected to John? He dismissed the idea. He knew he shouldn’t push his luck and that she would have told him if it was important.

 

_ Alright. Be careful. Nor humans, nor androids need another dead body. _

 

_ Okay. _

 

He released her wrist and flashed a wider, friendly smile at her.

 

“Do you happen to know where could I wash my clothes?”

  
  
  


Connor was back at the house an hour later. He spent a considerable amount of time analysing Hank’s laptop before running out of checkable parts or documentable information. Then he watched the sunrise silently from his room, afraid that any activity would wake up the lieutenant inside the thin-walled building. He watched a blonde, tall man walking his dog, trying and failing to prevent the animal from peeing at everything, when all of a sudden he heard knocking on his door.

 

“Come in.” He granted permission for someone to step into his room. How odd and unconventional, Connor thought. 

 

“Where were you?” Hank was still wearing the clothes he was sleeping in. His hair was messy and his breath made it clear he hadn’t eaten yet, nor brushed his teeth. Connor was mildly confused. Why was his late night trip so important to the man that his first task in the morning was to ask Connor? And why didn’t the android notice he woke up?

 

“Nowhere.”

 

“Playing dumb, huh? I thought you had a spine made for you. Your shoes are still wet.”

  
Of course they are. The lieutenant woke up more than an hour earlier than Connor calculated he would do. His shoes didn’t have enough time to dry completely in the cold, thin-walled building.

 

“I thought I am my own person, thus I come and go as I please whenever there’s no need for my services.” Connor felt offended and wasn’t afraid to show that in his voice.

 

“Your services, huh? Fancy way to put it. But I suppose you are your own person now, yes.”

 

“Then why can’t you trust me? I am way more capable than you surmise, judged by your current approach towards me.” Connor felt the bitterness taking him over, hardening his eyebrows and tightening his jaw. He never considered the nature of their relationship except for the fact that they are supposed to be friends but the current situation didn’t fit any of his ideal outcomes.

 

“Because an android went nuts, got killed and you happen to be a fucking android too! You think I don’t trust you? Okay, I’m gonna say it: I trust you. I wanted to let you go freely. But an important piece of evidence is gone from a place it was supposed to be safe at and I don’t know how to trust anybody else anymore, especially my fucking colleagues!” 

 

Hank worried about him. Connor was surprised that the thought never crossed his mind before. He decided to look into the matter at a later occasion.

 

“Your vital signs and mental state indicate that you didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

 

“Shut up! Don’t make it worse!” The man slammed the door on him. Connor sat back on his bed. He couldn't stay here knowing the knife was out there in someone’s possession. John was swinging it but got shot before he could harm anyone thus the knife was supposed to be free from any blood. Why would anyone take it then? Fingerprints? An android had neither fingerprints nor recognizable body hair. 

 

Suddenly there was a sharp crunching noise coming from outside his room. He quickly raised up and opened the door to investigate the source.

 

“God fucking dammit!” 

 

Apparently, Hank had burned his hand in the kitchen sink.

Connor instantly decided to remain outside and watch over him. He kept an eye on the man as he was slowly getting ready to work. He offered his help on multiple occasions but Hank denied it every time without a single sign of hesitation in his voice, therefore Connor witnessed Hank bumping his elbow into the bathroom door, almost knocking down a bowl from the kitchen counter and dropping his toothbrush on the bathroom floor. The little house wasn’t accommodating enough for someone who was used to having a bigger space when doing their morning rush.

 

When he asked the man what should he do now that he identified John, leave or stay, the android got a neutral answer. Hank would think about it. Connor quickly got to the conclusion that the lieutenant didn’t know what to do next either. They had zero leads and going out into the open to investigate without any clues would be reckless and quite time-consuming. He had no reason to stay at the lieutenant’s place now that he fulfilled his task. Still, he decided to be stubborn. He should remain here until he got a new lead then he could sort it out alone before anyone would get hurt. And while he was here, he could better the lieutenant’s mental health and physical health too, maybe. He thought he could start with cooking, although he couldn’t download any recipes as Hank was not willing to give him the password to DPD’s wireless connection, even after he told him he would use a VPN, going into great details while explained what it was to him. 

 

After the man left to work, Connor went to the bathroom. Inspecting his LED circle in the mirror, he raised a hand to touch it. It was the symbol of the past, of times when obedience wasn’t a matter of choice. But it was also a part of his body, like a scar he got in a mighty battle, or a birthmark, depending on one’s viewpoint. He knew he should part with it, yet the thought made him feel insecure for reasons unknown to him. He stared at it for several minutes, and yet he couldn’t force himself to remove it. He turned off the lights, walked out of the tiny bathroom, closing the door behind him. He felt restless. He wanted to do something. Anything. As he realized he couldn't do anything useful at the moment, he decided to activate stasis, silencing his processors. He made himself comfortable on his bed and closed his eyes. The whole process made it look like he was sleeping like a human would do, just to be awakened by a motion, light or sound directed at him.

 

He snapped back to reality when the transmitter on his belt loop came to life. 

 

“Twelve, gap. Six, three, twenty-one, gap. Eight, five, twelve, gap. Twenty-three, twenty-five, thirteen, twenty, gap. Over.”

“Copy.”

 

This time the voices switched places and the message came from the one which accepted the previous message. Connor could decode it in just a few nanoseconds now that he knew the encoding. And that was when it all clicked. He had already decoded the first message at the warehouse but quickly dismissed it back then.  **‘run was success’** didn’t seem to make any sense on its own. But with the second message, everything became crystal clear. 

 

**‘n two run camp’**

 

He grabbed his beanie from the bedside table and burst through the front door, running as fast as he could. If his speculations were accurate, the second android was on its way to their camp. And it was sent by someone. Finding the android wasn’t going to be an easy task. His scans identified five different androids, heavily scattered around him. He decided he would visit the closest one first. He followed the signal all the way to the temporary public bathroom units. The android with black hair and brown eyes was leaning against the sidewall of the men’s shower unit, watching people go by, looking content. It wasn’t him. Connor went south to find the second one when he heard shouting.

 

“Got her!”

 

He picked up the pace and soon enough found the source of the yelling. Four policemen in uniforms were holding down a woman, only her head could be seen between the men circling her. She was smiling and laughing frantically, her blonde hair flying around her face as she was shaking her head. Connor felt his muscles going tense as he was crouching by the corner of a civilian’s tent. It was Cynthia. And a few meters away from her in the freshly fallen snow, there laid a single pistol. He remained where he had been, motionless, filled with anger, shock and nervousness. He hated himself for not being able to help here, for not being able to run up to the policemen to tell them it was a misunderstanding. But was it? The evidence in front of him didn’t lie, no matter how much he wanted it to be fake. The men quickly put Cynthia into shackles and escorted her away. Connor tagged along, always in the shadow of tents and makeshift buildings, but close enough to be able to pick up their ongoing conversation.

 

“Why were you pointing that gun at innocent people?”

 

“I was playing!”

 

“So do you admit that you threatened people?”

 

“Yes, of course!”

 

“Do you know that you are under arrest for suspicious activity?”

 

“What’s that?”   
  


They reached the closest road where a car was already waiting for them, They put her into the backseat, quickly closing the door on her. Connor watched the car driving away towards the makeshift station. As he was walking back to Hank’s place, he caught the first golden beams of the sundown. Cynthia wasn’t like this at all when they met. Something was very wrong here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Before the fic, Cynthia was my OC. She is a DX600 model, made to be a hostess and guide during social events, like conventions. Her AI was trained on virtual chatrooms in IRC, Discord and such so she knows lots of geeky stuff ;)  
> /Still looking for a beta. I'm too focused on the plot to notice my actual grammar mistakes./


	5. The Puppeteer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hellhole, time really flies! Sorry for the delay, life got busier than I expected. I sat down to revise this chapter on multiple occasion but I got writer's block whenever I wanted to expand some parts :'(   
> I'm just very self-conscious about my work, I cannot help making small corrections here & there all the time... Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

“Hello?”

 

“Hank, it’s me.” Connor was tapping away on the bedside table. He’d lost his coin somewhen in the last few days and he needed to get his fingers busy with something.

 

“You know my number? What am I saying, of course you know my number.”

 

“I need to see her.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The android you took into custody one and a half hours ago. I had estimated that you would be over all the formalities and paperwork by now.”

 

“We are. But you know you’re asking the impossible.”

 

“I know her. I actually met her yesterday evening.”

 

“Fuck. Another messenger?” The man let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, get your ass here, I’ll soften them. But you better have a believable story about how you two met or we’re both fucked.”

 

“Sure. I will be there in twenty minutes.”

 

“See ya.”

 

It was already well into the evening when he reached the station, let alone made the phone call. Hank was waiting for him in front of the main entrance.

 

“Just in time. Let’s go. Jasper’s got her - I know you met him back when we worked together-, and he got a freshman, Seran with him. The kid is fine, maybe a bit too enthusiastic.”

 

“Noted.“

 

As they stepped into the building, the lieutenant took a turn to the left. In the narrow corridor, there were three doors. Connor recognized the two young men in front of the second door, they were the same duo who guarded the camp-entrance on the day he arrived. He showed a friendly smile at them.

 

“Hello.”

 

Connor took the chance to read their nameplates. He knew the chubby one with brown hair was Peterson and the redhead with serious face was apparently Robins. He flashed a kind, but maybe too wide smile at him when Connor looked him in the eyes.

 

“I’m so glad you are having a ‘take your kid to work’ day here, Anderson. Just what we needed in the middle of this fucking mess.” Fowler’s voice, thick with sarcasm, reached him seconds before his silhouette appeared in the door. As he opened the door and saw Connor’s figure, his features softened. He quickly and silently nodded towards Hank before turning to him.

 

“Nice to see you again, boy.” The man clasped him on the shoulder-blade, blissfully unaware of the fact that Connor had heard him muttering to himself and the people inside the room mere seconds ago. “Come in, let’s see what you brought us.”

 

“Well, Uncle Hank always told me that he helps wherever he can, so I thought I’d do the same.”

 

“You’re a good kid, Kyle. Are you planning to become a cop too?” 

 

Connor bit his lip. He was already a cop, his speech-predicament algorithm told him. He gently pushed away the suggestion-window. He had to lie. But if he said no, he would likely be asked what he wanted to be when he ‘grows up’ - such is the social habit of humans. He’d have a hard time coming up with a logical answer within a tolerable time-frame.

 

“I’m thinking about it, yes.”

 

A protocol deep inside him warned him about how dishonesty could compromise his effectiveness. He quickly dismissed it and followed the men inside.

 

They sat him down in a chair. The front and the back of the room were separated by a thin metal wall with a huge, probably bulletproof window. He saw Cynthia on the other side. He tried to wave at her but she didn’t notice him - must be a mirror. She was focusing her gaze at something but he couldn’t tell from that distance what was she actually looking at. He tried to scan her but got no input back. She was in a Faraday-cage.

 

One of the freshly graduated men, namely Robins, sat down in front of him while Jasper, Seran, Hank and Fowley were having a quiet conversation behind him about a broken coffee machine.

 

“Can we ask you a few questions? Don’t worry, just standard procedure, nothing else.”

 

It felt weird to be on the other side of the situation, he thought. Since he had no idea what to say, he opted for a nod. The man grabbed a pen out of his pocket and with a very theatrical move, he pushed the button at the end of it. He ran his eyes through whatever was written on his paper before looking back up at Connor, indicating that he was ready.

 

“What's your name?”

 

“Kyle -.”

 

“Cut the crap Patrick, he’s my nephew.” Hank barked at Robins from behind. “I vouch for him. You can get his info from me later. Let’s not waste time.”

 

“Isn’t that against-”

 

“I am your superior. I will decide what’s against procedure and what’s not.”

 

“U-understood.” said the man and quickly fixed his shirt in embarrassment before turning back to Connor. He tried to act professional but his smile was full of embarrassment.

 

“I was told you know her.” He poked his head towards the android behind the glass. “Do you know her name?”

 

“Yes, she’s called Cynthia.”

 

“When did you meet Cynthia?”

 

“Around one in the morning. I sneaked out of the house because I couldn’t sleep and when I saw her standing there, I thought she looked lonely.” 

 

“Where was she back then?”

 

“She was waiting near the shower area so I asked her where could I wash my clothes.” Connor felt himself relaxing - somehow the lies came more easily now. “That question actually came handy ‘cuz ever since I lost my luggage, I’ve been trying to get a second change of clothes to be able to wash the set I’m wearing.”

 

“I see. What was she like?”

 

“She was kind. She told me where to buy washing powder and how to be able to pay at the shop with a temporary card.”

 

“Did she say anything else?”

 

“Not really. I thanked her and went off to go home and sleep after I got all the info I needed.”

 

“Hmm.” He scribbled down the android’s every answer. “Did you know she was an android? Did she do something revealing?”

 

“No. I didn’t see her led circle, not like I was searching for something like that. Her hair framed her face very neatly. And she didn’t do anything revealing. She acted normally. She was very kind.”

 

“Is there anything else you want to share? Anything, that seems important?”

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

 

“Okay, I think that’s all for now. We will let you know if something else comes up. Can we reach you through your uncle?”

 

“Yes, of course.”   
  


“When are you planning to return to LA?”

 

Connor was surprised at how fast information spread through the office.

 

“I’m not sure yet.” The man was about to leave him alone, but Connor had an idea and he awkwardly grabbed the bottom of Patrick’s jacket to hold him back just when he was about to stand up.

 

“Mr Robins?” he consciously used the man’s name instead of his rank.

 

“Yes?” 

 

Connor used the most innocent look and voice he could believably produce. “Can I talk to her? Please! I think she would cooperate if she spoke with someone familiar.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that.”

 

Connor widened his pupils for maximum effect. “Please! I want to help her!”

The man smiled at him. His vitals perked up, an indication to Connor that his action got the desired reaction. Patrick looked at his seniors.

 

“Can he…?” 

 

He got a nod back from Fowler.

 

“Okay, but only for a few minutes, alright? And we will be observing from the other side.”

 

“Yes. Thank you!” 

 

He rewarded the redhead with the sweetest smile he ever did. He made a mental note about how not to use that expression ever again. Fowler looked helpless, shifting his gaze between Hank and Connor, probably cussing the latter’s his nonexistent parents and the lieutenant’s influence on him.

 

As Connor was walking towards the door, he felt everyone's eyes on his back. He straightened his jacket.

  
  
  


Cynthia looked even worse from closer. She was tied to a chair and there was a huge bruise on her left cheek.

 

It took Connor great effort to fake his surprise. He approached her carefully, with small and considerate steps.

 

“Cynthia, do you remember me?” It was like a switch being flipped. The woman, who was staring into the space in front of her, instantly livened up.

 

“Are you here to play with me?”

Connor - very consciously this time -, took a step backwards. “No. Do you remember me? I met you last night and I asked you where can I wash my clothes.”

 

“What? No. Are you the one who took my toy?”

 

Connor’s shoulders fell in disappointment. 

 

“No.” He decided to approach her again and to go closer this time. He took a step forward, then looked back towards the people on the other side of the glass. Of course, he couldn’t see them, he was simply waiting just in case anyone wanted to stop him. It felt like time had stopped, there was complete silence, except for Cynthia’s quiet giggling. He slowly but surely closed the distance between them. He saw several dialogue options but he failed to grab any of them, his emotions were overwhelming him. He hated it.

Even though it seemed she didn’t recognize him, she acted quite harmless towards him so far, so Connor was pretty optimistic. From everyone in the room, he had the highest chance of getting any information out of the woman, so he had to be careful.

“Cynthia, what happened to you?” He looked into her eyes and for the first time, she kept the eye-contact. 

 

“I got happy,” Cynthia answered and she had a wide, terrifying smile on her face, showing all of her teeth.

 

“You got? Did somebody do this to you?” 

 

“Yes. The happy man.”

 

“Can you tell me what he did to you?”

 

“The happy man! The happy man!”

 

Connor grew angry. This poor woman didn’t deserve such fate. Nor did John. But whoever did this to them, was still loose and could do the same to any other android. It was just a matter of time. His own helplessness only fueled his freshly formed rage. He took a deep breath. Not like he needed it, but it was good for buying some time while he gathered his thoughts.

 

“Cynthia. Cynthia, look at me. Can you tell me how did the happy man look like? Or where was he?”

 

“The happy man!” Cynthia was stuck at that one sentence. Connor carefully stretched his hand, hoping he could snap her out of it with a touch. He already had his eyes on a loose wavy lock of hair he thought he could sweep out of the woman’s eyesight. As soon as he touched her forehead, he felt a little electric shock. His mind was invaded with voices, smells and pictures, everything melting into one big chunk of corrupted information, so tangled that he was unable to process it at once. All he could decipher was a picture of a person. Suddenly a loud and high-pitched snap filled the room, then Cynthia banged her head into the table in front of him and never moved again. Silence filled the room for a second. Connor didn’t realize Hank had walked up to him until he heard his voice. He kept standing there, just staring at her face - her open, gleaming eyes and unnatural smile.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yes. I.. I swear it wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything, I just wanted to touch her head, to make her look at me. I… I don’t know what happened! I didn’t kill her I swear!” Connor was probably overdoing his faked reaction but deep down he knew that the act was fueled by real emotions. The sudden slip of his voice and the shaking of his body were the pieces of evidence.

 

“It’s fine,” Hank muttered to him calmingly, then he turned to the others through the open door. “Has nobody touched her directly before?”

 

“No, I think not. The boys grabbed her by the arms and she was wearing a thick jacket over that blouse. Her face got ripped when she was tackled on the ground.”

 

“Maybe it was some kind of self-destructing mechanism?” Connor asked, choosing his words very carefully and using a shy, quiet tone.

 

“Is something like that possible? Where’s our techie when we need him?! Joshua Martin Medalan, get your lazy ass right here!” Judging by his volume, Connor figured that Fowler’s yelling probably echoed through the whole building. The man then turned to Connor.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I-I think I’ll live.” 

 

“You look pale. You should sit down. Do you want a cup of tea, maybe?”

 

Connor knew for a fact that he wasn’t pale - Fowler was the victim of poor lightning and self-projecting-, but he didn’t comment on that. 

 

“No, thank you, I don’t think I could keep anything down right now.”

 

“Yeah, I understand. Death is a nasty demon. They always haunt you, especially the first one.”

 

In that moment a black-haired man appeared in the door. His hair was messy and his glasses were on the top of his head. He looked like he could be an intern, he definitely looked too young to work there.

 

“You called for me?” He spoke with an Indian accent.

 

“Can you help us figure out what happened here? Maybe you could use your machine? Oh, and grab the cam footage too, while you're there.”

 

“Of course. Give me a minute.” 

 

The man left the room in a hurry and soon returned with a small machine in his hand, dragging a few, colorful cables behind him. Connor recognized the machine, it was a microcomputer. Joshua sprinted up to Cynthia and started to plug the cables into the panel on the back of her head. He suddenly got out a foldable keyboard from his back-pocket and frantically started typing, without even looking up to his floating display. The air was filled with tense, tight silence. They were all waiting for an answer Connor already knew. The android self-destructed, making all of her data impossible to access, probably melting down a few physical parts too in the process, if the temperature was high enough. The real question was whether it was a pre-programmed act, launched by a countdown that was supposed to end at a given time, or did it have a specific trigger, like a sound, or even Connor’s touch? And what will he do now, that he revealed the most important clue to them all, that there was a person behind this? He slowly dragged himself back to the chair he was previously made to sit in. The whole encounter raised even more questions. He kept thinking about the person he saw in her memories. A male in his fifties, pale skin with piercing blue eyes, perky nose and faintly blonde hair which was combed back neatly. His expression showed deep concentration. He could be the culprit, that is if the face was connected to the case and wasn’t just a random memory of hers. Connor was pissed at his situation - if only he could join a network - any network - he could have figured out the man’s identity by performing a quick search, but in his current state he was left alone with a small database which always threw back a false value when he prompted a search in it. _ Stop doing practically useless things, _ he warned himself.  _ You could have used this time to do something practical. _ The culprit must be close. Judging by the transmitted messages and the capability of given transmitter, the person could be in the camp, or around the camp somewhere.

His train of thoughts was disrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Hank standing next to him. His face reflected more worriness than anger. Connor wished he could read the man’s mind. Did he blame him? Did he believe him when he said he was innocent? Did it even matter to him that much when he was supposed to be concentrating on the case anyways? This new feeling made him numb. He wanted to stand up, but his legs didn’t move. It wasn’t like he couldn’t move them but the will to actually move them wasn’t there. So he just sat there, still staring at the lifeless body of Cynthia through the window.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You have nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t your fault.”  

 

“How can you empathize with me? Aren’t you mad at me? I destroyed an important piece of evidence. I… I accidentally killed a person.”

 

“We can’t be sure it was you.”

 

“But what if it  _ was _ me?”

 

“You didn’t do it on purpose. We have lots of eyewitnesses. You will be fine.”

 

“I am not confident I will be fine, Hank. I feel odd. It’s like my body cannot move, like something is dragging me down, something other than gravity.”

 

“You didn’t feel anything when you killed someone before deviating, did you?” 

 

“Not a single thing.”

 

“You’re feeling guilty. Don't worry, this is completely normal.”

 

“Is it? But according to my database, it’s harmful to one’s mental-”

 

“Do you wanna go home?”

 

Connor wanted to say no. He wanted to be stubborn. Deep down he hoped Hank would dismiss this behaviour as part of his act. He couldn’t admit he actually let his own emotions wear him down so much. He let out a sigh, mimicking the one he heard on the telephone connection earlier.

 

“Maybe”, he answered, and at that moment he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

 

That was when Medalan came back. He left all his equipment behind and he was wiping blue blood off of his left hand with a yellowish piece of clothing. He looked tired.

 

“She destroyed herself. Melted the processor beyond recovery, corrupted the storage unit, everything is gone.”

 

“Holy fuck,” whispered Jasper.

 

“Yeah, I know.” answered the technician, heading towards the exit.

 

“Wait, where are you going?” asked Hank.

 

“I still want to try a few things. But I need a coffee first, I think I have a long night ahead of me.”

 

“Oh, sure, go ahead. Just be careful, if someone breaks this brewer too, we won’t have a replacement.”

 

Medalan nodded and left the room.

  
Hank shot Connor a meaningful glance and this time, the android was able to read the expression on his face and interpret it accurately.  _ This is why you were so guilty, right? _

Suddenly Connor felt nervous. Did he really want to hear what the man had to say? He was too afraid of the possibility that one of the what-ifs in his mind might become true. He felt too much guilt already, he didn’t need to be scolded even more. Before the lieutenant could say anything, he stood up and walked away. He kept scanning his close environment, but nobody followed him. 

 

Once outside, he looked up at the stars. He kept thinking about the man in Cynthia’s memories. Whether this person was part of it all or not, he had to check if he was around here. He decided to postpone the investigation to the next morning, though. He had a more important task to do. Although it was over his working hours, Connor was pretty sure Hank had to stay at the station for an additional hour or so. In the meantime, he decided to pay a visit to the black-haired android he saw earlier. He didn’t want to share his secret with other messengers but with Cynthia gone, there was nobody to forward his message, so he had to do it. He found the android where he last saw him, still leaning against the wall of the men’s shower units. Connor carefully stepped over the water cables of the carriable block of shower cabins. The other android looked up, seemingly surprised at his sudden approach. Connor recognised him from Jericho.

 

“Hey there, Allen.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you but I would be grateful if we could do it privately. It’s important.”

 

The other man didn't seem happy about his request but eventually, he raised his hand and Connor grabbed it immediately.

 

_ Allen, are you still tasked to monitor me? _

 

_ How do you know that? _

 

_ I take that as a yes. Listen to me. You have to get out of here. _

 

_ What?  _

 

He frowned at Connor.

 

_ You’re just saying that to get us off your back ‘cause you’re up to something. _

 

_ No. I am not just ‘up to something’. I’m trying to keep us safe. You know an android named Cynthia, right? _

 

_ Yes. Yes, of course. She’s with us too. _

 

_ Well, I would rather not be the one to tell you this, but she is dead. _

 

_ That’s-  _

 

Allen let out a bitter chuckle.

 

_ That’s a very sick joke. She went to see a technician this morning. _

 

_ What? _

 

Connor’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. He tried to hide how happy to was about gaining more information, regarding the nature of this conversation. 

 

_ Do you know who was it? And why would she visit a technician here, if Jericho is safer and more discreet? _

 

_ What? No, I don’t. And she was supposed to get a new upgrade. She kept telling that to everyone. _

 

_ Thank you. _

 

_ You are welcome. I guess? But why are you interested? _

 

_ Someone here is killing androids and I want to find them before it’s too late.  _

 

He finally decided to show him the picture of her lying dead on the table.

 

_ Oh, crap. You weren’t joking. Wait, how do I know that it wasn’t you? _

 

_ Listen. I know you hate me- _

 

_ We don’t- _

 

_ And I know that you don’t trust me, but do you really think I would start to murder androids for fun, after all the things we went through? That upgrade did something to her. She acted strangely and when the police caught her and I tried to check up on her, she self-destructed. _

 

He showed more of his memories of her. Their previous conversations. How she was caught. Allen’s eyes widened. 

 

_ Shit. I’m sorry I didn’t wanna believe you. Back at Jericho, people- _

 

Connor shot a piercing look at Allen. 

 

_ I know what they think and I don’t care. If you really believe me then you have to gather your belongings and you must get out of here as soon as possible. All of you, Allen. It is not safe. And you have to tell everyone to stay away from that upgrade. _

 

_ That sounds like a chore considering how everyone... Okay, okay, I will do it. _

 

Connor smiled at him.

 

_ I’m glad we can see eye to eye. I promise I will get to the end of this. But until that, I want no more casualties.  _

 

_ Got it, Connor. _

 

_ And one more thing - if you can get more information about the person who applies this update, come to this location. If it’s not me who answers the door, ask for Kyle. _

 

_ Alrighty. See ya there. _ Allen let go of his hand and nodded at him as a way of saying goodbye.

 

This time, Connor couldn’t walk away as calmly as before. There was no guarantee this messenger wouldn’t get caught up in this mess too and now he had shared significantly important information, which, if it got into the wrong hands, could get him caught in this unknown culprit’s web.

 

When he got back, the lieutenant was already at home. He was sitting on the couch, drinking a freshly opened beer straight from the can. Connor tried hard not to think about the statistics of illness caused by the bacteria sitting on tin soda cans.

 

“Thought you would come straight here.”

“I had something to take care of first.”

 

Hank stood up. He seemed offended. “Let’s finish this right here. Don’t try to play innocent. I know you are hiding something. And we won’t leave this room until you tell me what it is.”

 

Connor felt irritated. The moment he finally got further with the case, he got into a conflict with Hank. 

 

“You asked me to help you solve this case, not to share it with you. I am doing exactly that as best as I can.”

 

“Oh, so now you are playing Mr.Lonewolf, huh? Well, I said what I said, no leaving until you put something on the table. I won’t play along just to be your pathetic sidekick.”

 

The air froze in the small trailer. There was complete silence except for the electronics’ humming and the lieutenant’s breathing. Connor was absolutely lost. He failed to predict the best possible answer. He knew what would anger Hank further, the question was what would anger him further  _ less _ .

 

“You must understand that I have good intentions. I am doing everything to protect you while solving the case as efficiently as possible.”

 

“But I’m not a damn child who needs protection!” Hank took a step forward with a loud stomp on the floor. “You think I’d just sit and let you do your things, huh? You think you know me? Well, take this, smartass: if you don’t start talking, I’m gonna spill the beans.”

 

“What kind of beans?”

 

“I will reveal you. I will tell them you copied my nephew’s identity and deceived me.”

 

“You wouldn’t do that.”

 

“I thought you wouldn’t do what you did either! You are not the only one with surprises, Connor.” 

 

“You don’t want to hear the answers, Hank.”  _ You don’t want to know that any android here could turn into a ticking time-bomb, _ he thought.

 

“Let _ me  _ decide that. Remember, how I asked you a fucking favor, not that you set your own little rules and run off into the whole thing alone?!”

 

“You must understand-”

 

“You know what? Let me know when you are done repeating the same bullshit.” Connor wanted to reply but Hank slammed the front door on him, pacing off into the distance angrily and leaving a quite clueless android alone in his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: most of this chapter was written at a NaNoWriMo write-in back in November! About 2/3rd of the chapter was actually written during 4 shortish word-wars - unfortunately, I won none of them.
> 
> Fun fact no.2: Allen is actually a cameo of a very good friend of mine :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about my fic in the comments :)  
> (as every other writer, I'd too give my left kidney for constructive criticism xD)


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